


Lilac Alstroemeria Aster

by JenJo



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky changes his mind, Bucky works in a flower shop, Clint & Nat are vigilantes, Engagement, Fluff, Followed by Fluff, Kate has a brief cameo, M/M, Sam & Steve are police, So many tags, and doesn't think he deserves anything good, as does Rhodey, clint is a human disaster, ends in fluff, flowershop, followed by angst, for plot reasons, i summarise six months in a paragraph, this is not mini at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10076579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenJo/pseuds/JenJo
Summary: On the surface, Clint Barton shares nothing with Bucky Grant, the cute florist he helped save from thieves.Bucky has a business, owns more than one outfit, and looks to have a stable life. Worlds away from Clint's drama-filled past.Bucky being kidnapped reminds Clint why he doesn't put his heart on the line anymore.Clint will stop at nothing to get Bucky back, assuming that it has to do with one of Clint's numerous enemies. (Hey, cleaning the streets tends to make you some powerful enemies. Who knew?)Little does Clint know that the kidnapping has nothing to do with Clint's morally grey life, but rather, everything to do with Bucky's mysterious past.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to check out the amazing aesthetic board that PlaidHunters has created- link at the end of the fic

 

There weren’t many places willing to hire a guy who didn’t finish high school, a guy who basically disappeared from official records after the age of ten.

After a while, you get used to it. What opportunities would be given to an orphan raised by carnies?

So you start taking jobs that maybe aren’t exactly legal. Maybe you start looking to the grey in life, toeing that line between jail and freedom. And maybe spending a night in jail is sometimes preferable to yet  _ another  _ day on the streets, not knowing when your next job will be. 

To put it simply, Clint Barton was not the kind of man you wrote home about. Unless you were writing home a cautionary tale, a ‘stay in school kids, unless you wanna end up like Clint Barton.’

And maybe Clint was just  _ fine  _ with his life, thank you for asking. After all, he didn’t know any other. Can’t miss what you never had, right?

In recent times, he had begun to lean more towards the lighter side of the grey, doing jobs that would be less likely to land him in a jail cell.

Part of that had to do with meeting Natasha Romanoff. 

Well, ‘meeting’ made it sound like they had met over a cup of coffee, and a pleasant exchange of conversation.

The reality was slightly less legal; their first words were exchanged at opposite ends of a knife and an arrow. 

But the days of being enemies was in the past, for the most part. These days, their arguments were over who got to drop off the latest crook at the police headquarters, or whose turn it was to buy groceries.

(Natasha for the former, Clint for the latter. Every time.)

The pair had taken to cleaning the streets of crime. No crime was too small, nor too large, for the two of them. The Hawk and the Spider, they became known as. Names whispered in the dark shadows of the criminal underworld.

They were  _ feared _ . 

“Oh you better watch out, step on too many toes and the Hawk and the Spider will come for you.”

“I’m not afraid of rumours.”

Those who did not fear them, were rarely heard from again.

To say the pair had a reputation was an understatement, and couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Because the people behind the Widow and the Hawk? Weren’t people to be scared of. Not really.

Natasha and Clint might have a reputation on the streets, but it was all an act. A way for them to redeem themselves, a way to allow them to do what needed to be done without worry about their “real” lives.

If you met Natasha on the street, you would never suspect her of anything more sinister than stealing your seat on the subway.

Clint, on the other hand? Didn’t really blend into society like Natasha did. 

He was able to walk in a crowd, but someone would always notice him. It was usually the ears, he knew that. People would try not to stare, but the eyes were drawn to them. Even when people pretended that they weren’t staring, Clint knew they were.  

There was a reason Clint often wore a beanie. 

Walking with Lucky was the closest Clint ever came to blending in, people’s eyes drawn to the dog rather than to him,  but sometimes he didn’t want to blend in. And for those times, the Hawk existed. 

On this particular day though? Clint was rather glad he wasn’t the Hawk. 

The Hawk probably wouldn’t have been able to stay undetected long enough.

 

~

 

A rock being thrown in a store window in the middle of the day was hardly inconspicuous. 

It was a coincidence that Clint was out on a walk with Lucky when this happened. Honestly; Clint had decided to change his route because he and Lucky were tired of the old one, okay? He hadn’t changed the route when he saw some shady looking people up to no good, and followed them. No, not a chance, who gave you that idea?

(Clint liked to try and fool himself; it worked forty percent of the time.)

(Maybe twenty.)

Being the (mostly) law abiding citizen that he was, Clint followed the shady looking people. And he was glad that he did, because he was able to stop a robbery.

Well Lucky helped a little. 

Clint and Lucky waited outside as the people enter a  _ flower shop  _ of all things.  _ Who robs a flower shop? What did flowers ever do to you, besides being evil pollen carriers.  _

Clint shook his head;  _ it’s not the shop’s fault that you’re allergic to pollen. Keep watching.  _

A minute later, the robbers came running out, but they didn’t count on Clint and Lucky.

Lucky barked, which caused the robbers to pause, allowing Clint to get the money back, before chasing them off. 

By the time Clint got back to the flower shop, the worker ( _ owner? _ ) was out the front, staring at him.

_ The  _ hot  _ worker/owner. The one who is now staring at you, with a smile on their face. You should probably say something. _

“Uh, hi?” Clint waved, rubbing the back of his neck. He was sure if he looked down at Lucky, the dog would be giving him a disapproving look, the one that Natasha had taught him.

_ Well done, that was a ridiculous way to make a first impression. Idiot. _

The worker smiled back, seeming to hold back a laugh. “I’m so glad you were able to stop them.” The worker bent down to pat Lucky, who lapped up the attention. “I don’t know how much they stole, but-”

“Right,” Clint waited for the worker to stand back up, before he handed over the bag the robbers had used to take the money. The worker took it with their hand. 

“Thank you.” The worker looked up at Clint, smile still on their face. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

Clint waved the words away. “Don’t do this for the thanks, it’s the right thing to do.”

“Well, there’s a lack of that in the world today.” The worker waved their head at the building. “Take this, for example. It was a good thing you got here; who would rob a flower shop?”

Clint nodded in agreement. “Unless you’re a front for something?”

“No way. Just an honest flower shop curator.” The worker turned to Clint, offering him a smile. “Thank you.”

Clint shook the hand. “You’re welcome. Would be a shame to have lost such a beautiful building.”

“Yeah, it’s over a century old,” the worker sighed. “What would you say to getting a drink with me. To say thanks for saving my life.”

“Don’t know if I’d say I saved your life…” Clint trailed off, focusing on the first part of the sentence. 

_ It’s just a drink. Say yes, you can have a drink with this person. _

“Give me an hour to drop off my stuff and get changed?”

“Sure, I know a place. Meet me back here?”

“Sure thing.”

 

~

 

“You have a date.”

Clint sighed, closing the door behind him. He took the leash off of Lucky, watching the dog run off to his bed.

Clint then walked over to the couch, where Natasha was sitting, sharpening her knives. 

Clint dropped his head, and closed his eyes.  “It’s not a date.”

_ Not even worth asking her  _ how  _ she knows. She knows everything  _

“Two people meeting at a prearranged time to exchange a beverage and talk.”

Clint took a deep breath, before turning to look at Natasha.

She was smiling at Clint.  _ Which looks extra weird when she’s holding a knife. _ “Sounds like a date to me.”

“Because you’ve been on so many in your life.”

“And you have?”

Clint waved a hand, standing up and  going to his room to get changed. “I saved their business,” Clint called out through the open door. “They’re saying thank you. Not a date.”

“It’s a little bit like a date.”

Clint, no longer surprised when Natasha showed up in his room, turned around, pulling down his shirt. “Not dropping this, are you?”

She was leaning against the door, smile still on her face. “Nope. It’s  _ nice  _ Clint. Do you know their name?”

Clint opened his mouth to reply, before realising that the pair hadn’t traded names.

_ What? How’d we  _ not  _ do that? _

“I don’t.”

“Do you want back up?”

“For a not date?” Clint shook his head, changing his pants. “No thanks.”

“You’re wearing  _ that _ ?”

Clint looked down at his jeans and purple shirt. “Yes. Yes I am.”

Natasha held up her hands, pushing up off of the doorway. “Have fun, Clint. You know when you’ll be back?”

“No,” Clint answered as he picked up his wallet and keys. “Don’t wait up. Have fun on patrol tonight.”

“Will do. You have fun too.”

 

~

 

“You know, I half expected you not to show up.”

The worker was standing right where they were an hour ago, but they had changed. 

_ Maybe they live at the flower shop? Or, more realistically, live nearby. _

Clint looked at the worker’s face; they meant what they said. There  _ was  _ a fear there, which Clint’s arrival had relieved.

“I keep my promises. So my name’s Clint, we didn’t actually exchange names before.”

The worker laughed. “Yeah, I guess we didn’t. Name’s Bucky.”

“What kind of name is Bucky?”

Clint’s eyes widened after he said that;  _ what kind of idiot makes fun of someone’s name? _

Luckily, Bucky rolled with it. “What kind of name is Clint?”

“It’s short for Clinton.”

Bucky stared at Clint, disbelieving expression on their face. “Bucky is short for Buchannan.”

Clint and Bucky stared at each other wide eyed, before they burst out laughing. 

“No way?”

“Both of us?”

“What are the odds?”

Bucky shook their head, walking down the road. “Shall we go?”

Clint nodded. “After you. I hope this place is everything you say it is.”

“What did I say about it?”

Clint thought for a moment, before drawing a blank. “You haven’t said anything. Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Don’t like mystery?”

“I like mystery as much as the next guy.” Clint stopped when Bucky opened a door, into a coffee house. “Thought we were going to get a drink.”

“Coffee is a drink,” Bucky stood there, looking worried. “You don’t like coffee?”

Clint began shaking his head inhumanly fast. “I love coffee. Lead the way.”

 

~

 

Clint learnt many things on his not a date date. 

Bucky had a brilliant sense of humour, which matched Clint’s perfectly. 

Bucky had grown up with a best friend named Steve; “ninety pounds soaking wet, and way too ready to fight. Seriously Clint, you have no idea. He’d fight his shadow if he thought it had offended anyone.”

He had been working at the flower shop for three years, and was a co-manager. 

Bucky had lost his arm in a way he didn’t want to talk about, which Clint respected, directing the conversation to Lucky.

Apparently, in the one moment Bucky had known Lucky, he had fallen in love.

_ Damn dog, impressing everyone everywhere he went. _

Clint didn’t reveal much about himself; too much history advising him against it.

He did say some things; Lucky was the centre of his life, he was between jobs at the moment, did odd jobs to fill the gaps. And he owned a building. 

“You own a building?”

Clint had shrugged, drinking his coffee. “It’s complicated.”

Bucky had dropped it.

That was another thing about Bucky; if you didn’t want to talk about something, you didn’t talk about it. 

They had walked separate ways, after finishing two coffees each. But they didn’t part without exchanging numbers, and a promise to do this again.

Clint found himself looking forward to it.

 

**~**

 

“Have fun on your not date?”

Clint had barely stepped in the door before Natasha spoke. 

Clint took in Natasha’s appearance, and her holding of his bow and quiver. “We’re talking while we work?”

Natasha nodded, handing over his things. “I expect all the details,” she called as he went to change.

 

~

 

‘All the details’ in Natasha speak meant  _ all  _ the details.

“What was Bucky wearing?”

“A leather jacket.

“What did Bucky smell like?” 

“Flowers.”

“What did you eat?”

“Coffee.”

“Only coffee?”

“Yes Natasha, only coffee.”

“What did you talk about?” 

“Stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Yes Natasha, stuff. I’m not elaborating.”

“That good, huh?”

“Come on Nat, focus.”

“You know we can do both. You’re deflecting.” 

“Really, I hadn’t noticed.”

“Fine, we’ll talk at home.” 

 

~

 

After dropping off the thugs at the local police station, and collapsing onto their couch, Natasha rested her head on Clint’s shoulder.

“You know I care about you.”

Clint closed his eyes, resting his head on top of Natasha’s. “It’s the thing I’m most sure of in my life.”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I know,” Clint reached out and took hold of Natasha’s hand, squeezing it. “I know.”

“You really see something with Bucky?”

“Maybe? It’s been one not date, but I’d like to see where it goes.”

“I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks Nat.”

 

~

 

It turns out, Clint wasn’t the only one who wanted to see if a relationship would work.

Texts turned into weekly coffee meetings. Weekly coffee meetings were joined by the occasional date.

An afternoon spent at an ice skating rink, which resulted in more than one bruise.

“ _ I bruise easily, seriously Bucky, don’t worry. _ ”

_ “Clint, people don’t bruise like that for no reason.” _

_ “Seriously I’m fine.” _

A couple of movies.

“ _ You like cheesy romcoms?”  _

_ “Hey, don’t knock them. They’re ridiculous, but they’re hilarious.” _

_ “They take themselves  _ way  _ too seriously, Clint.” _

_ “And that is why I like them. Now shush, the previews are starting.” _

Mini golf.

“ _ Seriously Bucky?” _

_ “What’s wrong with mini golf? It’s a classic date activity?” _

_ “If you say so. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” _

(Clint did not expect to tie with Bucky at the end of the evening.

_ “Tied Natasha!” Clint called as the air ran after a thug. “Tied! In  _ mini golf  _ of all things.” _

_ “So you found someone better than you at targets?” _

_ “Hey, we tied!” _

To say that things were going well would be an understatement. Six months in, and the pair were going from strength to strength. Most weekends were spent together, and more often than not, weeknights too. 

Of course, Clint should have known that nothing good in his life ever lasted. 

 

~

 

It was a typical Thursday night. Natasha was out on the streets, Lucky was with Kate, and Clint was lying in Bucky’s arm on the couch. 

They had shared a couple of pizzas, and watched some tv. Well, tried to watch tv. They got distracted by each other. 

_ Very  _ distracted, at some moments.

It was ten forty five, and Bucky had said he had to be home by ten thirty. 

“You’re perhaps the most wonderful person I have ever met.” Bucky pressed a kiss to Clint’s forehead, before kissing his lips. “But I really can’t stay; I promised I’d open up the store in the morning, and if I stay, I will never leave.”

Clint shrugged as best he could.  “I would have no problem with that.”

Bucky laughed, kissing Clint again. “Same here. But, I do need to keep my promise. I’m leaving.”

“Uh huh,” Clint kissed Bucky again, but made no move to let go of him. 

Neither did Bucky, who continued to stare into Clint’s eyes. “I really am leaving.”

“Uh huh,” Clint now had an amused smile.

“No really,” Bucky gave Clint another kiss, before letting go of Clint. Clint stood up, holding out a hand to help Bucky up. Clint then pulled Bucky into his arms, giving him another kiss.

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes. “Clint…”

Clint let go, but not before giving him another kiss. 

Bucky sighed,  and turned his back on Clint. “Leaving now.”

“Don’t believe you,” Clint joked as he followed Bucky to the door. Bucky picked up his bag, opened the door and took a step outside; Clint grabbed his wrist, and pulled Bucky back into another kiss.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Bucky promised, regretfully pulling away from Clint. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I am counting down the minutes,” Clint waved, watching Bucky walk down the hallway and down the stairs. He closed the door, making his way to his bed, collapsing into it.

Lucky trotted over, climbing onto the bed next to Clint. 

“Yeah, I’m screwed Lucky,” Clint muttered, sitting up against his headboard. Lucky climbed up to lean on the headboard, using Clint’s shoulders to balance. Clint shook his head, reaching up behind himself to pet Lucky. “You’re trouble. What do I do?”

Because Clint had come to one unignorable conclusion: he was in head over heals love with Bucky.

He lay in bed, waiting for Bucky’s text. He fell asleep before it came through.

Little did he know, that the text would never come.

 

~

 

Clint was woken up the next morning by Lucky licking his face, and a dull  _ thumping  _ from somewhere. 

“Ew,” Clint wiped his face, reaching for his aids. It was then that he heard the knocking at the door clearly. 

Rolling out of bed, and wondering who on earth would be coming by this early in the morning, Clint grabbed his phone and went to the door.

_ Seven am, and still no message from Bucky. Maybe he forgot? _

Clint opened the door to two police officers. 

“Clint Barton?”

“Uh…” Clint looked down at his attire, just his jeans from the night before, and looked back up at the police officers. “I swear I normally wear more clothes than this.”

Neither officer’s expression changed. “May we come in?”

_ Tasha is going to kill me _ , Clint thought, but waved the two officers through. “Might I ask what this is about?”

The first officer was momentarily distracted by Lucky, who had decided that this person was the best person in the world. The second officer stepped forward. 

“Do you know the whereabouts of James Barnes?”

Clint shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

The first officer stood up, Lucky sitting by their feet. “You’d know him as Bucky Grant.”

“Oh?” Clint stared at the officers. “Why?”

“Answer the question, Mr Barton.”

Clint rolled his eyes.  _ They know you know him; might as well tell them the truth.  _ “Yeah, him I know. He was here last night.”

“And what time did he leave?”

“Around eight, he was opening up his store first thing,” Clint looked at the officers, who shared a worried look. “Why?”

The first officer sighed, focusing back on Clint. “You are the last person to have seen Bucky.”

“He was alive when he left here,” Clint immediately said, before realising how that would sound. Clint held up his hands. “I love him, I would never want to see anything happen to him. Do you know what’s happened?”

The first officer stepped forward, putting a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I believe you.”

_ What?  _ “Why? Sorry to ask, but no one ever believes me.”

“Bucky has said a lot about you; he cares about you a lot.”

“ _ Who  _ are you?”

The officer let go of Clint, smiling for the first time. “He ever tell you about a ninety pound asthmatic?”

“Of course; every story ends up involving Steve.”

The officer spread his arms. “Steve Rogers, in the flesh.”

Clint looked at the man, who was not ninety pounds. “What?”

“Still got the asthma, put on a little bit of muscle.”

“A little,” the other officer muttered. “The Empire State is a little building.”

“Sam,” Steve rolled his eyes, gesturing to Sam. “Sam Wilson, my partner for the last five years.”

“Steve’s too polite to ask; may we sit down?”

Clint pointed to the couch, where the two officers sat side by side, as Clint sat on the coffee table. Lucky made a spot for himself at Steve’s feet.

_ The guy can’t be too bad, if Lucky likes him. _

“So Bucky’s missing. Do you have any leads?”

Steve shook his head. “That’s why we’re here. Bucky told me yesterday that he’d be spending the afternoon here, before coming back to the apartment we share. He never made it, so here seemed a good place to start the investigation.”

“He’s gone missing somewhere between here and…”

“Fifteen minute walk, tops,” Steve filled in. “Bucky isn’t the kind of person who would just leave.” Steve took a deep breath, before talking. “How much has he told you of himself?”

Clint frowned at Steve. “I’m guessing not whatever it is you’re thinking of right now.”

“I’m only telling you this, because it’s important, and might be why he’s missing,” Steve seemed to debate the matter with himself, before continuing. “Bucky was a police officer. First year out, he was assigned to an undercover op. He was the perfect candidate for it, but something happened. We lost all contact, and I didn’t hear from him for five years. When I found him again…” Steve stopped, shaking his head. He looked down, seeming to relieve a memory. Sam put a hand on Steve’s thigh; Steve focused on that, before nodding to himself and looking back at Clint. The hand didn’t move from Steve’s thigh. “When I found him, he had changed. Not going to go into it, it’s not relevant. He gave evidence against the people who did it, but they were connected. Bucky went into witness protection, completely off the books. He was the one who suggested the flower shop on the other side of the country. I followed six months later, and became friends with Bucky Grant, worker at the flower shop. We haven’t had any trouble, no indications that anyone knew. Until now.”

Clint was silent, thinking of Steve’s words.  _ I had no idea. What has Bucky been through? _

“When we met,” Clint said, looking at the two officers. “There were people who had just robbed the shop. Maybe it’s connected?”

Steve turned to Sam. “Did he ever tell you?”

Sam shook his head. “He might have recognised the people.”

“Probably connected,” Steve agreed, turning back to Clint. “Thank you for telling us.”

Clint was about to say something, when he saw Natasha appear behind Sam and Steve, ready to strike. He threw his hands in the air. “Tasha, no!”

Natasha dropped her hands, while Steve and Sam turned to look at her.

“Why are there two police officers…” Natasha trailed off when she saw the police officers. “ _ You _ .”

“You know them?”

Natasha nodded, coming to sit next to Clint, but keeping her eyes on Sam and Steve. “He-” she nodded at Sam. “Might have caught me a couple of times.”

“The Black Widow,” Sam shook his head, staring at Natasha. “If only I knew how close you really were.”

“Gotta keep up the thrill of the chase,” Natasha shrugged, before turning to Clint. “Why are there two police officers in our apartment?”

“Bucky’s missing?”

“How long?”

_ I love you Natasha Romanoff; you don’t even ask why that is important, you  _ know _ why it’s important, and you know what to do. _

“Hasn’t been seen since he left here last night.”

“Alright,” Natasha nodded, kissing Clint’s cheek and standing up. “I’ll go and ask around; someone knows something.”

“We didn’t hear that,” Sam said, pointing at her. She smirked, waving over her shoulder.

“Oh, we’ll see each other soon,  _ Falcon _ .”

“ _ You’re  _ the Falcon?” Clint asked, looking at Sam with renewed interest. “She never stops talking about you.”

“That’s an over exaggeration!” Natasha called from her room.

“Side issue to the main issue,” Sam said, turning to Steve. “What do we do?”

“We go down to the office, start trying to get warrants for surveillance. Then go door knocking.” Steve stood up, Sam a second behind, and offered a hand to Clint. “Thank you for your assistance, Clint. We’ll be in touch.”

Clint had heard  _ that  _ phrase way too many times to trust it.  _ Friends of Bucky or not, can’t trust that sentence.  _ “No way, I’m coming with you.”

“No offence, but how can you help?”

Clint spread his arms wide. “I’m Hawkeye.”

“That probably seems more impressive when you aren’t missing your shirt.” Steve paused, looking at Clint’s arms. “Though those are some nice muscles; Bucky talks about them all the time, but seeing them in the flesh, I understand why.”

Clint lowered his arms, and mimed drawing a bow. “Hawkeye. I run around with the Black Widow.”

“The Hawk and the Widow,” Natasha said on her way past, walking straight out of the apartment.

Steve nodded in recognition. “Okay, now I get you. But we have to do this the right way.”

“Well, I’m the last one to see Bucky alive,” Clint explained. “So you have brought me with you so that you don’t lose me. If you lose me, you lose your only lead.”

“He makes sense,” Sam said, looking at Steve. “I say we let him tag along.”

“He makes a good point,” Steve admitted, gesturing to Clint. “Put on a shirt, and we’ll get going.”

 

~

 

Clint had to admit, walking into a police station willingly was strange. No one gave him a second glance as he walked through behind Steve and Sam, making their way to a couple of desks in the corner. 

Kate had agreed to an emergency Lucky session, when Clint had explained the situation.

( _ “Bucky’s missing Kate.” _

_ “Lucky can stay as long as you need.” _

_ “Best, Kate. You’re the best.” _

_ “I know. You find your man.” _ )

 

“Techs say there are no surveillance cameras,” Sam said, looking at his phone. “So no need for warrants.”

“So straight to door knocking,” Steve sighed, when Clint felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He checked it, before offering the phone to Steve. “You might want to look at this.”

Steve started the video, with Sam watching over his shoulder. “Professional; they knew what they were doing.”

“HYDRA?”

“Is there any question?” Steve asked, handing the phone back to Clint. “How’d you get it; we got told there’s no surveillance.”

Clint sent a smiley face back to Natasha, before pocketing his phone. “Plausible deniability.”

“For the best.” Sam patted Steve on the shoulder. “We should probably be out of uniform for this one.”

“Yeah,” Steve stood up. “Wait here, then we’ll go to the scene of the crime.”

 

~

 

Clint had been gone for all of  _ one second, damnit. Just wanted to check down the alleyway. _

Clint swore, when he got out of here,  _ no more alleyways. _

One minute, Clint was in the alleyway. The next? Waking up, hands cuffed against the wall.

Two people walked in, and Clint sized them up.

_ I could take them. Probably. But Natasha would tell me to get information first. Don’t play all your cards straight away. _

The bigger of the two smiled wide at Clint, holding out his hand. “We take all your technology. But what are these?”

_ Aww, aids, no.  _ Clint quickly thought up a strategy. “WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU, THOSE ARE MY HEARING AIDS!”

_ A little over the top, maybe. But the desired effects. _

The man picked up one of the aids, and put in Clint’s ear, sparing no time for gentleness. “Better?”

_ Just roll with it.  _ Clint gave him a smile. “Much.”

“New question: why are you here?”

“Because you kidnapped me?”

“Why were you in that alley?”

“Looked like a nice place to sleep.”

“You are not homeless; your arms have too much muscle.”

“Aww, thank you for noticing. I aim to please.”

The man turned to his partner. “ Он не дает нам ничего. “

The other man looked at Clint, a wicked smile on his face. “ взять его к солдату.”

The man turned back to Clint, coming over and disconnecting him from the wall. “You will be mad you didn’t tell us truth.”

“What were you saying?” Clint asked as he was dragged away.

The man shook his head. “No matter. The Soldier will look after you.”

Clint frowned, but the man didn’t give any more information. 

Clint groaned for show, before being thrown into a room. He was handcuffed to a chair, before he heard the sound of laughter as the door closed.

“Why were they laughing?” Clint asked the empty room.

“Because the Soldier will take care of you.”

Clint didn’t jump at the sudden voice from the shadows. No, he didn’t. And it was only 60% because he was cuffed to a chair. 

“Whoever you are, I’m not afraid of you.”

The shadows took form, and someone stepped out of them. “You should be.”

Clint’s eyes widened at the figure. “Bucky?”

Bucky shook his head, stepping back half into the shadows. “I’m sorry Clint, I didn’t think they’d find you.”

“Who are they?”

Bucky looked down at his…  _ hands? Why does Bucky have a silver hand? _

“ Они не остановить. Отрежьте одну голову, еще двое должны принять это место.”

“Bucky, that doesn’t make sense. Cut off one head?”

Bucky looked up then, for the first time looking confused, rather than scared. “You understood that?”

“Russian was the third, no fourth language I learnt.”

“Why do you know so many?”

“Well, English. Then sign, for obvious reasons,” Clint gestured to his ears, before ticking off on his fingers. “The horses only spoke French, so I learnt that. Then I met Tasha, and I learnt Russian.”

“Clint, why aren’t your hands cuffed?”

Clint smiled, standing up. When Bucky took a step back, Clint stayed where he was, hands held up. “Trick I learnt when I was nine. Now, you want to get out of here?”

Bucky shook his head, looking down at his hands. “I can’t. The arm, it’s stuck. I can’t take it off, without severe consequences. But it also has a tracking device, it’ll activate if I am away from a handler for over twenty four hours.”

Clint shook his head. “Not a problem. I know a guy.”

“We can’t.” Bucky looked up, staring right into Clint’s eyes. “Can we?”

Clint nodded, taking a step forward. This time, Bucky didn’t step back, and Clint continued until he was wrapping his arms around Bucky. “We can.”

 

~

 

Wherever Bucky expected Clint to take him, it probably wasn’t to the private elevators of Stark Tower.

“What are we doing here?” Bucky asked, looking at Clint.

Clint did not like seeing such a blank expression on Bucky’s face. He reached out to take Bucky’s hand, but Bucky pulled it away. 

“LIke I said,” Clint tried his best to keep his voice steady. “I know a guy who can fix that arm.”

“No one can fix me,” Bucky muttered, looking down at the floor of the elevator. 

Clint leant back against the elevator, watching Bucky. In the time they’d known each other, Clint had never seen Bucky look like  _ this _ .

Luckily, the elevator reached it’s destination before Clint could think too much. He stepped out of the elevator, holding out an arm for Bucky. Bucky stepped out, standing in front of Clint’s arm but not touching. 

“Clint? What brings you here?”

“Hey Rhodey,” Clint walked in, stopping in front of Rhodey. Bucky stood behind Clint, still looking at the ground. “Think you can help us?”

“Depends,” Rhodey kept his hands behind his back. “What do you need?”

“This is Bucky, he’s my boyfriend. He needs the tracker in his arm disabled, and he can’t take the arm off.”

“I could do that,” Rhodey nodded, pointing to a door. “Shall we?”

“Give us a moment,” Clint waited until Rhodey was gone, before turning to Bucky. “Bucky, do you trust me?”

“I trust you,” Bucky looked up at Clint through his eyelashes. 

Clint reached out for Bucky’s cheek, smiling. “You can trust Rhodey, he’ll make sure they can’t track you down.”

“You won’t leave me alone?”

“Not a chance.”

Bucky lifted his head, nodding at Clint. “Okay. Let’s do this.” 

 

~

 

It took Rhodey two hours to disable the tracker in Bucky’s arm. Clint stayed by Bucky’s side the entire time.

As soon as the tracker was disabled, Bucky’s entire demeanour lifted. He smiled at Clint.

“Hey there.”

“Hey there yourself,” Clint squeezed Bucky’s hand. “You okay?”

“Not a chance,” Bucky sighed. “But I might get there.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Bucky turned to Rhodey. “Thank you.”

“You might not thank me yet,” Rhodey turned around the tablet he had been working on. “The arm’s circuits have been completely interwoven with your nervous system. It  _ can’t  _ be taken off.”

“But you disabled the tracker?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fine,” Bucky smiled at Rhodey. “So long as they can’t track me, I can probably learn to live with the arm again.”

“Again?” Clint asked; Bucky shook his head.

“Later.” Bucky then turned back to Rhodey, holding out his left hand. “ _ Thank you _ . You have no idea what this means to me.”

Rhodey shook Bucky’s hand. “I think I can hazard a guess. But you’re welcome. Anytime you want to get the arm checked, or get away from  _ this  _ one-” Rhodey nodded his head towards Clint. “-you are more than welcome here.”

Bucky laughed, putting his right arm around Clint’s shoulders. “Thank you for the offer. I think it’s time for us to go though.”

“Don’t have too much fun.”

“Same to you,” Clint smiled, as he lead Bucky back to the elevator. Once it was descending, he spoke to Bucky. “You feeling better?”

“Of course,” Bucky squeezed Clint closer. “I’ll explain at home though.”

_ Home. Why does that make me feel all fuzzy? _

 

~

 

Back at the apartment, the pair collapsed onto the couch, just holding each other.

It was four pm; they hadn’t even been gone that long, not really.

_ And yet it feels like a year since we were last together like this. _

“We weren’t even separated for a day,” Clint shook his head. “And yet it feels like so much more.”

“You have no idea.”

Clint closed his eyes, holding onto Bucky. 

_ You know what you have to do.  _

_ I know. I don’t have to like it though. _

Clint sighed, keeping his eyes closed so that he didn’t have to look at Bucky.

“You shouldn’t be dating me.”

Clint felt Bucky tense up in his arms. “What?”

Clint let go of Bucky, sitting up on the couch. He watched Bucky do the same, his expression confused. 

“You shouldn’t be dating me.”

“Why?”

Clint gestured vaguely to Bucky’s left arm. “Look what happened”

Bucky looked down at the arm, before frowning at Clint. “Clint, this wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t deserve good things.” Clint shook his head, looking down at his hands. “Never have, never will.”

“Clint.” Bucky reached out to take Clint’s hands, squeezing them. He spoke while Clint kept his eyes on their hands. “You can have happiness, and if you’ll let me, I would like a chance to help you find some.”

“Really?” Clint looked up, whispering the words. Bucky nodded. 

“You never know what the future holds. Now more than ever.”

“I still don’t think I get anything good in my life.”

Bucky leant forward to kiss clint’s cheek. “Well then, I’ll just have to convince you. How about you come over to my place tonight. Give you some time to debrief with Natasha, who I don’t see in her room right now.” Clint heard the door to Natasha’s room close, and smiled a little. “Then come see me, and  _ we’ll  _ have a talk about how what happened isn’t your fault. Sound good?”

Clint nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, plan. Sounds good.”

“It’s been a long day,” Bucky said, giving lint another kiss before standing up. “We’ll talk. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Clint walked Bucky to the door, watching him walk down the hallway. When he turned around, Natasha had him in a hug.

“Woah, what did I do?”

Natasha shook her head as she pulled back, closing the door. “I couldn’t find you, Clint. Do you know what they felt like?  _ Me _ , unable to find  _ you _ .”

“I know Tasha, I know.” Clint shook his head, walking back to the couch. “HYDRA, Tasha. HYDRA.”

“Here?” Natasha whispered, shaking her head. “No.”

“I… Steve said that Bucky was involved with them, against his will. And that’s who took him this time.”

“And we’re sure they can’t track him?”

“Rhodey made sure of it.”

“Good.” Natasha pulled Clint up off of the couch, and pushed him towards the shower. “Go have a shower before you go see Bucky.”

“To clear my head?”

“To clear the smell, Clint. Don’t know what you did, but you  _ stink _ .”

“Oh ha ha,” Clint said, shaking his head at Natasha. “Fine. You good for tonight?”

“Always.”

 

~

 

The entire walk over to Bucky’s place, Clint tried to stay out of his head. He really did.

Clint would much rather  _ not  _ be thinking about how Bucky was taken because of Clint, how nothing nice ever happens to Clint, how…

_ Okay brain, you can stop now that I’m at Bucky’s place.  _

Clint was knocking on the door, trying not to show his thoughts on his face.

“Hi Clint.”

Clint blinked, before recognising Steve. “I didn’t recognise you out of uniform.”

_ Seriously, did the guy grow muscles in a day? _

Steve laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I get that a lot. But you’re not here to see me.” Steve stuck his head into the apartment. “Bucky!” Steve turned back to Clint, patting him on the back. “Have fun.”

“Big night?”

Steve shrugged a shoulder. “Hope so,” Steve said with a smile, before walking away from Clint. 

A moment later, Bucky appeared, smile on his face.

“You know, I half expected you not to show up.”

Clint smiled, remembering the first time Bucky had said that. 

“I keep my promises.”

“I hoped so,” Bucky waved to the apartment. “Come in.”

Clint followed Bucky, and it wasn’t until they were sitting across a table from each other, that Clint recognised the beanie that Bucky was wearing.

“My beanie..”

Bucky reached up, smiling as he touched the beanie. “Yeah, sorry. I know it’s been a couple of months, but every time I thought to give it back… I forgot?”

“You forgot?”

“I like it,” Bucky let go of the beanie, reaching out to take Clint’s hand. “I like you, and you deserve an explanation. First off, my being kidnapped has  _ nothing  _ to do with your being the Hawk, okay?”

“Wait,” Clint’s eyes widened, and he stared at Bucky. “You knew?”

“I saw your bow, and the arrows, pieced it together. Not to worry.”

“And you’re sure that it wasn’t because of me?”

“Two hundred and seventy percent sure.” Bucky took  deep breath, never looking away from Clint. “Steve told you some things?”

Clint nodded.

“He wasn’t lying. I spent some time working for HYDRA against my will. It was part of the tracking system; it emitted a frequency that made me suggestable to any request. I’ve never been sure how I left the first time, but I think it might have to do with getting me over here. Getting rid of the tracker, got rid of the frequency. You might have noticed how I changed as soon as your friend shut off the tracker.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“Good,” Bucky tilted his head, watching Clint. “I don’t want you worrying about this being your fault.”

“I’m not.”

“I can see you worrying Clint.”

Clint sighed, smiling at Bucky. “When’d you get so good at reading me?”

“When I care about someone, I notice when they’re not okay.”

“Yeah,” Clint sighed, rolling his head from side to side. “I’ll get there; today threw a lot at me.”

“Of course,” Bucky squeezed Clint’s hand, before letting go and standing up. “Got something for you.”

“What?” Clint was momentarily thrown by the change in subject.  _ Though maybe it’s for the best. _

Clint watched Bucky walk over to a counter, and pick up a pot of flowers. Bucky came back over to the table, and pushed the pot towards Clint. “I, uh, made this for you.”

“Oh!” Clint reached out, pulling the pot closer to him. 

_ You should  _ really  _ tell Bucky that you’re allergic to flowers. _

_ But he made this for me. I can figure it out later. _

“Thank you Bucky, they’re, they’re…” Clint trailed off, not knowing what to say. He looked up at Bucky, wincing slightly. “Pretty?”

Bucky offered Clint a smile. “It’s okay, I’m the flower guy, not you. They’re alstroemeria, larkspur, and heather. I, um, might have noticed your like of purple.”

Clint looked down at his purple shirt, then looked back at Bucky.  _ Who is wearing the purple beanie of yours.  _

“Uh, yeah. I like the colour,” Clint rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Thank you. No one has ever given me flowers before.”

“Tell you the truth? I’ve never been given flowers.” Bucky shrugged, pointing at the flowers. “Probably because I’m allergic.”

“Allergic,” Clint echoed, before realising something. “If you’re allergic to flowers, why do you have a job in a flowershop?”

“Not exactly many places willing to hire a one armed man.” Bucky looked down at his left arm, waving it around a bit. “Guess that’s not a problem anymore.”

“Guess not,” Clint said, before pushing the flowers to the side. “Truth is, I’m also allergic.”

“How bad?”

“Sneezing, itchy eyes. Nothing terrible.”

“I’ll keep the flowers then.”

Clint reached out, pulling the flowers back towards him. “Nope, mine.”

Bucky gave Clint an amused look. “Oh?”

Clint nodded. “Mine. You made them for me, they’re mine.”

“Okay,” Bucky smiled, standing up and moving to the kitchen. “You can keep the flowers, I’ll just eat this delicious pizza I made.”

Clint reacted instantly; he let go of the flowers, jumping up and wrapping his arms around Bucky. “Mine.”

“I’m yours?” Clint could hear the humour in Bucky’s voice. 

Clint hummed against Bucky’s back. “Yep, mine. Not letting go of you.”

“You’ll have to let go of me to get pizza.”

Clint thought for a moment, before shaking his head. He let go of Bucky, moving to Bucky’s front and taking his hands. “Nope, not letting go of you.” 

Bucky looked at Clint, tilting his head in puzzlement. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not just talking about now?”

Clint froze for a moment at Bucky’s words.

_ Am I talking about a future with Bucky? _

_ Why wouldn’t you? _

_ I’ve known him not even a year. _

_ So? Can you imagine a life without him? _

_ No. _

_ Well then, you have your answer. _

“Clint?” Bucky had moved his right hand to Clint’s cheek. “You okay? You went quiet there.”

“Marry me.”

Clint didn’t mean to blurt out the two words.  _ Really, I didn’t. I was going to talk to Bucky, maybe say some things about how I really care about him, how I love him, how- _

“Yes.” 

Clint’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes?”

Bucky laughed, leaning in to kiss Clint’s forehead. “You asked a question, Clint. And I answered it.”

Clint shook his head. “ _ You said  _ yes _? _ ”

Bucky kissed Clint’s lips. “Yes Clint,” Bucky spoke against Clint’s lips. “I said yes.”

 

~

 

Clint had never claimed to be your typical human. Human disaster by day, vigilante by night. It wasn’t much of a life, but it was  _ his _ .

And now? Now his life had expanded a little.

He and Natasha still did the saving people thing, but now did things in a more legal manner; they had become detectives.

(A job with regular hours was a welcome thing.)

Bucky still worked at the flower shop, never bringing home his work. 

They had a small wedding, inviting their family to help celebrate.

Natasha moved out of the apartment, claiming it to be her wedding present to the pair. 

And now,  _ every  _ night, Clint went to sleep with Bucky by his side. And was their any place he’d rather be?

(The answer is a resounding  _ no _ . And Bucky feels the same way.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my mini-that turned into a big- bang :)
> 
> Seriously, I switched ideas because the original was so long. Oh well.
> 
> Some things:  
> -Lilac Alstroemeria Aster= First love; aspiring; commitment.  
> \- “Он не дает нам ничего.“ = "he is giving us nothing"  
> \- “взять его к солдату.” = "take him to the soldier"  
> -“Они не остановить. Отрежьте одну голову, еще двое должны принять это место." = "they are unstoppable. Cut off one head, two more shall take it's place."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [art for Lilac Alstroemeria Aster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10077914) by [PlaidHunters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaidHunters/pseuds/PlaidHunters)




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